The Hogwarts Zoo
by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns
Summary: A collection of stories written for the Building a Zoo challenge on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)
1. Lights, Camera, Action

Lights, Camera, Action: A moment in Hermione's life of reality television

Note: Tiger Enclosure: (pairing) DracoHermione, (emotion) Disappointment, (au) Reality TV

* * *

Hermione got out of her car, making sure that she had everything that she needed in her bag. After she was satisfied with her inventory, she locked the doors with her remote key and headed for the boutique. Through the windows, she could see the camera men setting up. She'd sigh, but it was just another day of work; her getting her life filmed for the sake of getting the proper story out.

There was only one thing that Hermione wanted to most. God knows if he grated her just the one wish just once, Hermione would feel so relieved going to work. It was the part that she detested because it wasn't entirely true.

She had to work and be filmed with her best 'redeemed' friend, Draco Malfoy. Except they weren't friends, and he was hardly one of redemption as of late.

Hermione saw the familiar blond touselled hair next to one of the cameras, and she groaned in disappointment. Unfortunately, there was no relief day for her. Like a true trooper, Hermione opened the boutique doors and greeted the cameramen with nods.

"Gentlemen," she said. They all returned the greetings with mixtures of gruffs and smiles.

Draco turned towards her with a sly grin on his face. "Granger," he drawled. "You look like you've just got out of bed."

She gave him a glare, opting not to respond to him. _'Just a contract,'_ she thought. _'One season, and I'm free of him.'_

He watched her with an amused expression, but Hermione wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"We're ready to roll, guys," one of the cameramen said. "Get ready."

Hermione closed her eyes, mentally chanting about her happy place. Soon enough, a smile graced her features. She could do this.

"Action!" someone yelled.

As soon as the words filled her ears, Hermione approached Draco with an arm open to hug the blond. "Thanks for coming," she told him.

Draco returned the hug with both arms. He whispered, _'Not yet,'_ in her ear so quiet that she thought she imagined it. Hermione had to try her damn hardest not to blush from anger and embarrassment. "As if I'd miss seeing you trying to impress your boyfriend. Can you imagine the outrage Ginny would make if I left you out to dry like that?" he said aloud.

Once this take was finished, Hermione was going to _kill_ him.

* * *

Word Count: 405


	2. A Lover's Mark

A Lover's Mark: _Could she accept the lover's mark?_

Note: Pansy Centric - Dolphins Enclosure: (au) Soulmate - a touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint whether it be a name, shape, etc., (word) shake, (setting) barbecue

* * *

"Pansy, are you alright?"

"Pans."

"Shake her, mate."

"Is she frozen?"

"Someone dressed bad again?"

Pansy heard the people around her, but she couldn't react to them. She should be more engaging to her friends, smiling and telling them that she was fine. She really should be yelling at them before the food on the grill starts to burn.

But she couldn't. Not when there was a significant mark on her hand.

 _It couldn't be._

As far as she knew, soulmates were a myth and the people around her were rubbish for thinking that such a thing existed. She thought that tricks were played on her to make her believe it, and that her friends were all together on it because they wanted to mess with her head.

That changed at this very barbecue. She had a name on her hand, one that wasn't there before. No one could have done that except the person that touched her.

 _Blaise._

There it was, in intricate letters, the name of one of her closest friends. He was a bit of a narcissist, but he was completely loyal and caring to the group. This was his backyard the barbecue was hosted at.

He'd never touched her before, mainly because she would always threaten him if he did. Had he touched her before...

She couldn't think about it. Pansy didn't want to believe it.

"Excuse me," Pansy murmured, rushing off. She heard the calls of concern behind her, but she kept going. As soon as she was alone in the bathroom, she shut and locked it.

 _He had kissed her hand before she could react_. Now look at this...this...mark!

She leaned against the door, trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. Damn you, Blaise.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Pansy jumped, clutching her hand.

"Pansy, what are you doing in there?" came Blaise's voice.

He was the last person she wanted to see. Or hear. Or anything.

"Go away!" she yelled. "This is your fault!"

"What are you talking about, love?" he asked. "Is this because of me playing earlier?"

Pansy shook her head, even though he couldn't see it, she knew he would know. "I don't want to talk about it."

There was a sigh. "Come on, Pans. Open the door."

The dark-haired witch stared at the name that would be forever imprinted on her hand. She had to accept her best friend as her other half. Could she accept the lover's mark?

* * *

Word Count: 431


	3. Unfortunate Entanglement

Unfortunate Entanglement: _Tom was not a fan of being tangled like this._

Note: TomMyrtle - Muggle!AU & set in high school; Penguin Enclosure: (action) cuddling, (dialogue) "You wouldn't!" / "Try me.", (word) mistake

* * *

Tom stared at his reflection, blurred by the drops pelting against the window like rapid drums, yet his scowl was prominent enough to be noticeable.

This was the _last_ place he wanted to be, yet he had no other choice lest he should ruin his clothes in the downpour and risk damaging his vehicle by trying to drive on the flooded roads. _Not_.

"It's not the end of the world, Tom," drawled a voice behind him.

He turned around, his glare still apparent as he looked at the girl sitting on the couch. He could blame her for this, but it wasn't necessarily her fault that the weather wanted to wreak havoc. It wasn't her fault that their teacher paired them together for this history project.

He _could_ blame her with the fact that he was stuck in _her_ house for the duration of this storm.

"Of course, it's not," Tom replied. "Though these are not the circumstances I wanted to be in, Myrtle."

Myrtle pouted slightly, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. "The news mentioned that it was going to rain," she muttered.

He looked at her incredulously. "A flash flood warning is completely different from just mentions of rain!"

Myrtle raised her hands up in surrender. "Well there's no way you're leaving right now, so let's just work on our poster. The sooner we research and compose our timeline of Beatrix Potter, the sooner you can distance yourself from me as fast as possible." She sniffed awkwardly and turned away.

Typically, Tom would have bit back with something scathing or hurtful for the sake of it—especially when it came to Myrtle—but he only sighed and trudged towards the couch.

As he did so, Myrtle reached for the laptop on the coffee table in front of her and opened it. She scooted over so Tom could sit down, her ponytails hitting against her face.

He cleared his throat and leaned over so he could see what she'd type. "I think we should—" he started but stopped when the lights went out. Not a second later, booming thunder rocked against the walls while the rain hit the windows hard.

"Get the candles," Myrtle sighed, finishing Tom's sentence as she stood up. Lightning flashed through the window, causing Myrtle to squeak and dash out of the living room. Tom watched this and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He was stuck with a skittish Myrtle Warren in a flooding thunderstorm. They were not going to get any work done.

* * *

Tom found himself staring through the window once more, but he was sitting on the couch with a girl cuddled into his side instead of standing by the window.

He watched as the grey clouds and rain darkened the sky, the only source of light coming from the flashes of lightning. Any time thunder sounded, the walls would seem to shake, and Myrtle would jump closer into his side. To keep his side from being bruised by her knees, Tom had an arm around her, so she could lean on his shoulder. The laptop was discarded somewhere; Tom couldn't exactly move to look for it.

He could just imagine what his friends would say if they saw this. He'd be the laughing stock for the remainder of their senior year! He should just kick her off and let her fend for herself in the corner somewhere.

Tom _tried_ to do that when she first jumped on him at the next roll of thunder.

" _You wouldn't!" Myrtle cried._

" _Try me," Tom hissed._

She tried him—jabbing her knees into his side for good measure—and he made the mistake of going against his word. Now, this is where they'd been for what felt like hours.

Tom could have pushed her away still. Though, he saw the fear in her eyes every time the walls shook and the rain beat the windows. He was a bit of a bastard, but he wasn't _that_ big of a bastard. In school, he would be front and center when someone like Myrtle was picked on, though he always had better things to do with his time. But he always saw the fear, much like he saw now.

Was it worth it to see that fear now?

No words were exchanged between them while they sat on the couch; only the sounds of the storm and her squeaks filled the candlelit home.

"I'm sorry," Myrtle whispered finally. "I know…" she sniffed. "I know that we're not friends and—"

Tom leaned his head back as much as he could under her iron grip, interrupting Myrtle. "Don't mention it, Myrtle," he said. "Seriously. Don't mention it. Until this storm settles just…don't _squeal_ so much."

She took off her glasses, set them aside, and made a humming noise, one that Tom assumed meant that her lips were sealed. She curled into him further, and Tom saw out of the corner of his eye the small smile on her face.

Make no mistake, he was still unhappy with this entire situation, but as he watched the rain with Myrtle next to him, Tom figured he could be in worse situations.

* * *

A/N: Written for The Houses Competition and HSWW (Challenges and Assignments)

(THC) House: Gryffindor; Year/Position: Year 4; Category: Standard (750-1500); Prompt: [Weather] Torrential Downpour (included within the storm)

(HSWW) Assignment #8 Performing Arts Task 3: write a hurt/comfort

Word Count: 869


	4. Waiting with a Plan

Waiting with a Plan: The girls had a plan, and Lavender was waiting for its progress

Note: Set around Halloween 5th year, canon divergent possibly

Parrot Enclosure: (character) Lavender Brown, (location) Gryffindor Common Room, (emotion) Excited

* * *

Lavender was reading a book as she lounged on one of the couches in the common room, waiting for her friend to arrive. Parvati was taking forever to return from her tutoring session with Cormac, and she had to find out what happened between the two. This information would be too juicy not to know!

She swung her legs to the front of the couch and sat up when she heard the portrait swing open. In came Parvati in a colorful, Gryffindor sweater. She had a satchel on her shoulder and a book tucked under her arm.

Lavender tossed her book aside and rushed to her friend. "You're late," she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Tell me _everything_."

Parvati set the book on the shelf and sat down. Lavender was quickly behind her.

"What did he smell like? Was his smile as white as usual? Did you actual study?" the witch pressed.

Parvati held her hands in front of Lavender. "Calm down, Lav, calm down," she replied. She traced her hands over her plait slung on her shoulder and took a deep breath.

"First thing, Cormac is as dumb as a newborn troll," Parvati said, her nose wrinkling. "He couldn't understand Charms if it charmed him in the bum."

Lavender laughed. "We knew that the minute Flitwick asked you to help," she said. "But that's not what I'm worried about."

Parvati grinned. "He does have the most charming smile, and he smelled heavily. Lav, we were so close to kissing. I think it could have happened."

The blonde squealed, shaking her fists together. "This is great news, Vati," she exclaimed. "Imagine what the others are going to think when Cormac McLaggen asks you to the Halloween Masquerade." She could see it now.

Parvati swept her plait over her shoulder with a smug look. "I'll have to look my best for the occasion," she said in a dramatic manner.

Lavender winked at her friend. "I know a thing or two about someone looking their best."

She hugged her friend before proceeding to plot with Parvati on how they were going to go about the next plan of action on Cormac.

* * *

Word Count: 362


	5. Rainy Moment

Rainy Moment: _Lorcan wasn't having a good day. Good thing his friend is around_

Note: University AU (LorcanMollyII)

Panda Enclosure: (theme) surprise, (genre) friendship, (object) pillow

* * *

Lorcan ran as fast as he legs could take him across the quad, his bag hitting his back with every step he took. He was late for his class, and this professor was the kind of professor that would fail him _just_ because he was late. He couldn't wait until exam week was over; it was killing him.

When Lorcan arrived at his classroom door, he wanted to scream. Planted on the door window was 'Emergency. No Class Today'. He was so close to throwing his bag on the floor, his body along with it. Lorcan had rushed to get to a class that was cancelled, and no one told him about it. Someone was going to hear about this.

With a frown, Lorcan left the building. At least went for a run, right? No, because he was tired and still had his final philosophy exam essay that he needed to compose and—

Suddenly, Lorcan was getting drenched from head to toe in rain.

When did it start to rain? Seriously.

* * *

There was a knock on Molly's dorm door, and the redhead got up from her bed, rubbing her head. She should still look a mess given she had a free day today and hadn't planned on getting up until the study session scheduled later after the rain.

Unfortunately, whoever was knocking on her door didn't get the memo.

She opened her door, and her eyes widened at the sight of a soaking wet Lorcan.

"Class was canceled," he murmured, glancing at the floor.

Molly rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, sighing. "I suppose you better come in then," she said, stepping aside so the blond could enter. "Do _not_ sit on my bed," she added. "You are not getting my sheets wet."

He gave her a sheepish grin, grabbed one of her pillows, and sat on the floor in front of Molly's bed.

Molly shook her head, rolled her eyes, and shut the door. Whatever story was behind this would take up the rest of her time until the study session. That much she was sure.

* * *

Word Count: 349


	6. Shadow in the Light

Shadow in the Light: _Their secret was in the shadows, despite her being the light_

Note: Mythology!AU, possibly OOC

Hogwarts Zoo - Daddy Parrot: RegulusSeraphina

* * *

Seraphina stared down at the Anemoi with a cold look. He approached her, accused her of nonsense, and stood there as if he was worth the time of day. She was the goddess of the light; he was nothing but a mere speck in her domain.

Her nails drummed on her throne while the rest of the party in the hall continued. They were meant to be celebrating Ariana's first successful season change under her goddess' charge, not holding Seraphina accountable of nothing.

"Antonin," she drawled in a chilling tone. "If you wish to remain with the powers you possess, I advise that you watch what you question me of."

Antonin shook his head quickly. "I apologize. I was only stating that you and Regulus were missing quite a while the last feast so I—"

"Advise you not to finish that sentence," she interrupted. "I will not sit here and listen to this. And I do not have to continue looking in your face."

Seraphina stood up abruptly, gliding out of the main room with her golden robes following behind her. She missed the cunning grin that was on the minor god's face.

When she reached the temple corridor, she headed for the entrance; the candles flickered with the shadows of the columns.

She didn't make it far because a hand reached out for hers and pulled her between the columns. Seraphina would have lashed out with a dangerous glare and harsh words, but she paused when she met the cool eyes of Regulus Black, the god of the shadows.

"You showed up to the celebration," she stated, keeping her facial expression neutral.

A ghost of a smirk formed on his face. "How could I miss such an occasion?"

"Antonin is catching on to us."

"I do not care."

"You should!"

"Should I?"

She growled. "We should not be involved with one another, or did you forget that?" she hissed.

He flipped his dark hair, keeping his composure. "No one's telling Albus about his affairs. We shouldn't care who or what sees us, Phina. You're my light, and for once I care nothing for this being in the shadows."

He pulled her closer, causing the goddess' breath to hitch. He was the only one to make her feel this way; she could never be so cool and composed around his cheeky yet insightful stare.

That stare made her forget and not care about embracing him against that column. It made her want the shadow of their secret to come to light.

* * *

Word Count: 422


	7. Before the Plan

Before the Plan: _What he does before he plans..._ BartyRabastan

Note: Thief!AU, Muggle/Modern!AU

Shark Enclosure: (action) biting, (plot point) looking for something, (word) sharp

* * *

Barty slipped inside the dark warehouse, blending into the shadows created by the night. He looked around slowly, making sure that nothing looked around of place since the last time he'd used it. It was in the part of the city he didn't like associating himself with, but at the same time, it was a perfect cover when he needed to lay low.

He picked up a sense of something not too far from him, and it made his lip quirk up slightly. Barty tossed the bag that he had with him over his shoulder and started to shrug off his dark coat. Carelessly tossing it to the floor, Barty walked towards the wall and flipped the light switch, illuminating different parts of his safe house.

Barty made his way to a metal table near the other wall, leaning backwards on it with his legs crossed at the ankles.

"Are you going to keep quiet and admiring my flawless features, or are you going to say something?" he drawled, gripping the table and smirking.

A slow clap sounded across the room, a male shadow on the far side of the safe house coming into view.

"And miss out on learning your mannerisms and using them against you?" the man remarked in a dramatic tone. "How could I do such a thing?"

Barty snorted. "One thing about me, Bas, is that no matter how much you try to examine me, you'll never figure me out."

Bas shook his head, running a hand through his dark hair. "Damn, a pity."

"Tell that to the mixed police records with my name."

"The fact that there's even a record speaks for itself."

Barty rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Rabastan. What are you doing here?"

Rabastan grabbed the bag that Barty had tossed, peering inside at its contents. "What does it look like?" he said. "I knew you were making a hit today, and I wanted to check out the merchandise." Rabastan whistled, taking out one of the jewels and biting it for authenticity. "Onyx diamonds, you're thinking bigger, aren't you?"

Barty's smirk was back. "I'm planning on the biggest, Bas. Those diamonds are only practice."

Oh, yes. Barty had big plans for the museum in town. But he had to be sharp and dot his I's and cross the T's first, and he had to lay low until the heat was off him from his recent heist. Soon enough, Barty would get what he wanted.

* * *

Word Count: 411


End file.
